Though loathe to put on the gown from last night, she did, marvelling it didn’t show up more of the trauma it had been through, unlike Isabella herself, who was hollow-eyed with stress and exhaustion. Even having her hair professionally dressed hadn’t helped much. Not that it mattered. No one was going to be looking at her.

  Finally, as the grandfather clock in the corridor struck six, they were ready. Princess Alexandrina beautiful in pink, Mrs Jolyon, pale but composed in midnight blue, and Isabella, trying to look jolly, in the golden taffeta. Their wide skirts snapped back and forth as they descended the staircase, Isabella’s eyes straining for the first glance of Prince Ernest’s face. She could feel Mrs Jolyon doing the same.

  “Ladies!” John Conroy came to the bottom of the stairs. “You look magnificent.”

  Isabella could barely bring herself to look at him.

  “Now,” he continued. “There’s been a change of plan. Your Majesty, your mother would like to speak to you for a moment.” Mrs Jolyon and Isabella hung back to allow Alix past to the salon, but Mr Conroy said, “No, no, ladies. It is a conversation the Duchess and I wish you to hear, also. Please go through and be seated.”

  The Duchess was resplendent in black satin, with her hair piled high and diamonds at her throat and wrists. The Blue Salon looked very different from last night, with a leaping fire and the sparkle of champagne in crystal goblets. A string quartet played in the hallway and strains of a merry gavotte came through the air.

  John Conroy stood beside the fireplace as they were each given a drink and then took a seat on the powder-blue sofa.

  However Alix was not to be fooled.

  “What is it, Mama? What’s going on?”

  The Duchess smiled, for once a smile without a scheme behind it.

  “Just wait one moment …”

  The door was flung open and, to Isabella’s horror, in came Prince Ernest, medals, boots and sword all polished to a high shine. He took a glass from the tray a servant proffered.

  “Well, then.” He looked at Alix and Isabella closely. If he was surprised to see either of them, it wasn’t obvious. “I have good news.”

  “What, Uncle? Have you got a new dog?”

  “No. Though I wouldn’t mind one. No. It’s far more important than that, Alexandrina.” Alix looked up at his use of her full name. “I owe you an apology.”

  Alix looked blank.

  “How do you mean?”

  Prince Ernest’s voice was gentle.

  “After your accident in the carriage. You’ve been pretty upset since then, haven’t you?” Alix looked down at her hands and nodded. “Isabella here has been so worried, she even came to see Mr Conroy this morning to tell of her fears.”

  Alix looked at Isabella.

  “So that’s where you were.”

  Isabella looked over at Mr Conroy. There was no point in denying it.

  “Well, I am glad she did, Your Majesty, because it alerted us to something that had been going on under our noses for some time. It wasn’t until this morning that I finally got the evidence I needed.”

  Alix looked confused. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I’m not following you.”

  The Duchess now got up and sat between Alix and Isabella. She took Alix’s hand.

  “Dearest, try to be brave.” Alix shot a look at Isabella. “When your wheel fell off the other night …”

  “It wasn’t an accident, was it?” finished Alix in a half whisper. The Duchess shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “And Shadow? Was he made to bolt?”

  Prince Ernest took over. “He was, though I haven’t evidence for this yet. I do have evidence that the Russian Ambassador, Yuri Gregorivich, was behind your carriage losing its wheel.”

  Alix looked stunned. “Why the Russian Ambassador?”

  “We don’t know yet,” replied Prince Ernest. “He has been arrested, but has said nothing so far. Eventually he will.” The Prince’s face was grim. “It’s most likely to be about destabilising the throne of England. Then England might withdraw from India, leaving its rich pickings for Russia, who would invade through Afghanistan.”

  It took a moment for Isabella to realise she was nodding.

  “I have heard of this before,” she said in a quiet voice. “I heard Lady Molesey speak of it.”

  Alix leant forward on her seat.

  “So the Ambassador tampered with my coach?”

  “No, dear,” said Prince Ernest. “It was his manservant, Hassan Al Hassan. He has been arrested, too. have no doubt he also did something to make your horse bolt. They’re fine horsemen, those Pathans. He’d know a trick or two.”

  Isabella stood, feeling sick.

  “I don’t believe it. Pathans don’t harm children. It would go against their code – their Pahktunwali!”

  Prince Ernest nodded, almost sadly.

  “I know, Isabella. I understand why you are so upset. I was, too, when I found out, for I’ve always admired their tribe, but I have evidence from the stable boy. When we arrested him, Hassan Al Hassan had some poison on his person. Deadly stuff available in either India or Africa. Induces paralysis. Not a nice death, no sirrah.”

  “Calabar bean?” said Isabella without thinking.

  “Well, yes.” Prince Ernest looked surprised. “You’re a little young to know of it.”

  Isabella looked up. “My ayah was a healer.” With the thought of Abhaya, Isabella’s eyes welled with tears.

  “I’m sorry, Alix, I don’t know why I am crying. I think it is with relief, really …”

  Alix put her arm around her.

  “And maybe sadness. You spoke to Mr Al Hassan, didn’t you?”

  Isabella nodded. “I liked him … and he reminded me of home.”

  “Well,” said the Duchess. “All is well now. The Princess is safe. I owe you an apology too, Isabella. I thought you were here to cause trouble, but I see now you only had the Princess’s best interests at heart. Bravo.”

  Isabella gave a limp smile.

  “Where is the Russian Ambassador now?” asked Alix.

  “He’s being held at in the prisons at Westminster with Al Hassan.”

  “What will happen to them?”

  “They will be tried for treason the day after tomorrow. Then if they are found guilty, they will be hanged.”

  Mrs Jolyon was rubbing Alix’s hands to warm them up.

  “What alerted you to all this?” she asked Prince Ernest.

  “Well, we’ve been watching this Russian for some time. We knew him to have a close relationship with the Emir of Afghanistan –they were educated together – but it wasn’t until we found out how much time he’d spent in India that we became suspicious of him. It turned out he’d been moving back and forth across the border, stirring up trouble for the British, encouraging uprisings, being difficult …”

  Isabella looked at Prince Ernest, his hard face and shrewd eyes, and found herself glad it was not he who was the assassin. She felt ashamed she’d ever suspected him.

  “I received intelligence an attempt might be made, but by then.” He turned to Alix. “ Your horse had bolted for no good reason and I became very much on my guard. I put soldiers near you at all times. The only time I couldn’t police your whereabouts was at St James’s Palace, where, ironically, I thought you’d be safe.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want the Princess to go and stay with the King?” Asked Isabella.

  Ernest looked surprised.

  “Why, yes. But how did you know?”

  “I overheard you arguing with King William. I’m sorry, I was looking for the Princess and thought she was with you and the King in the dining room, and so I waited for her outside. You were so angry you didn’t even notice me.”

  Prince Ernest laughed. “You’ll make a fine soldier one day, Rockwell.”

  “I hope so, sir.”

  Prince Ernest held up his glass. “To the Princess Alexandrina.”

  Alix turned her shining face to Isabella’s.

  “I’m so happy this is over. I am sorry it was your friend, but I am glad we now know. He might have harmed you, too, eventually, to get to me.”

  Isabella was silent.

  He would never have harmed me, was what she wanted to say, but, with the feeling of happiness around her so strong she could almost touch it, she didn’t dare.

  She watched as the Duchess and John Conroy fussed over Alix, making amends, knowing it was too little too late. Still, the attention would be nice for Alix, whilst it lasted.

  “Shall we go through, my dear?” asked Prince Ernest, offering Alix his arm.

  The door opened and strains of music and chatter came through the air from the ballroom and wonderful smells wafted from the dining rooms.

  One of the Duchess’s ladies-in-waiting bustled up to her.

  “Madam. The King is here.”

  The Duchess beckoned to Prince Ernest and Alexandrina.

  “Come, let us greet him with the good news before he goes through.”

  Isabella watched as Alix, face alight with happiness, walked through the great stone arch to the entrance hall to greet her uncle and aunt.

  Mrs Jolyon was at her elbow.

  “Cheer up, dearest.” She put her arm around Isabella. “It’s all been a bit much for you, hasn’t it?”

  Isabella nodded, chin rigid with trying to keep the tears back.

  “I just find it so hard to believe Mr Al Hassan would take part in such a plan. Not one that is so dishonourable and underhand. He might well kill the King or Prince Ernest, but it would always be in a fair fight. Pathans don’t creep about in the dark, loosening screws and putting burrs under saddles.”

  Mrs Jolyon looked horrified.

  “He put a burr under her saddle? How do you know?”

  Isabella held out her open palm, which contained the star burr in all its spiked glory.

  “I found it on the underside of Shadow’s saddle, on the morning Alix went out for a ride.”

  “What will you do with it?”

  “I should give it to Prince Ernest, but I just can’t bring myself to. I suppose I don’t want to believe I was so taken in. If I could just get to talk to Mr Al Hassan, I would know if he were involved. I would be able to tell from his face,” she added in Hindi.

  Mrs Jolyon looked at her closely.

  “But dearest, who else could it have been? All the evidence points to the Ambassador and his man, even more so now you have this. I would take it to Prince Ernest just as soon as you can. It’s terribly important, Isabella. It might mean the difference between life and death for them, and I don’t want to think of what might happen if they were released. Who knows what other plans they have up their sleeves.”

  Isabella nodded, glum.

  “I know. You’re right.”

  Mrs Jolyon tightened the arm around Isabella’s shoulders. “Do you want me to give it to Ernest – would that make it easier?”

  Isabella smiled. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

  She dropped the star burr into Mrs Jolyon’s palm, feeling the weight of responsibility fall from her shoulders. Somehow, Mrs Jolyon taking it from her made her feel less guilty. The Russian Ambassador and Hassan Al Hassan would never leave prison now.

  All Isabella had to do now was focus on her escape. It was going to be simple. With so much coming and going, no one would notice the picture missing and the alarm wouldn’t be raised for some time. By then she’d be far away. She must do nothing but put aside her sadness about Hassan Al Hassan and enjoy herself.

  Mrs Jolyon took her arm.

  “Shall we go through?”

  Isabella had never seen anything like it. The ballroom was filled with the light of a million candles and the silver and crystal chandeliers shone. Great tables were laid with gold linen tablecloths and gold cutlery, and groaned with mouth-watering food. Whole fish, huge hams, haunches of venison and whole chickens and ducks were being carved at the tables for the glittering guests. Two huge bowls of melted chocolate sat over tiny blue flames beside assorted exotic fruits, which sent a beautiful smell into the air. Excited chatter hummed around them and there was much fan-waving as the fires were stoked high and the room became warm.

  Mrs Jolyon gripped her arm. “Oh dear, you are not going to believe who is here.”

  “Who?” replied Isabella in a panic, following Mrs Jolyon’s gaze.

  There on the other side of the room in pale-green satin, like one of the bullfrogs from the river at home, was Lady Molesey. Next to her, in primrose yellow, was her daughter, Eloise. They were talking to a tall, thin man without a chin.

  “Oh dear. This is not good. What if they see me?”

  Mrs Jolyon snorted.

  “It doesn’t matter if they do, does it? You are under the protection of Her Majesty. If I’m not mistaken, by the time Lady Molesey’s beetled down to India House to tell them you are here, you’ll be gone?”

  Isabella thought for a moment. Mrs Jolyon was right. A lot of water had flowed under the bridge since she’d last seen them. She was obliged to no one now; she had her own money and she had powerful friends. The feeling of being in charge of her own destiny was one she was beginning to enjoy. She tugged at Mrs Jolyon’s gown.

  “Come on, let’s go and say hello.”

  Mrs Jolyon wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you. I’ve seen enough of those two to last me a lifetime.”

  “May I have the pleasure of this dance?” A nice-looking man in uniform bowed before Mrs Jolyon, but Mrs Jolyon looked back at Isabella.

  “Go on. I’ll wait by the door for when the Princess returns.”

  Mrs Jolyon was right. It would be best not to be seen. She was tired and felt she might say something she regretted. It made her happy to watch from a distance, safe in the knowledge the Moleseys no longer had any power over her. The relief she felt that Alix was now safe made her shoulders relax, and she found her breathing was steadier. It was hard to believe Hassan had been involved. The Ambassador must have held a very great blood price over Hassan’s family.

  There was a short burst of trumpets from the gallery of the great hall, and the King and Queen entered the room with Alix at their side.

  “I’ve got to dance with four different princes apparently,” Alix muttered with a slight grimace as she came over to stand with Isabella.

  “I thought you liked dancing?”

  “I do. I love it. I just don’t want to have to make polite conversation throughout all of it.”

  Isabella shrugged. “Well, don’t then. Pretend you’ve lost your voice.”

  Alix rolled her eyes. “You’ve got no sense of duty, have you?”

  “I do, I just don’t see why, considering you’ll be queen one day, you shouldn’t be able to not talk to whomever you wish.”

  Alix sighed. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the first prince, who was all of fourteen, with buck teeth and mouse-coloured hair. He bowed and clicked his heels together, and offered Alix his arm. Alix smiled prettily, curtsied and then made a face at Isabella over her shoulder as she was led off to dance. Isabella smiled. Alix was far too well-behaved, but maybe that’s what happened when you were raised to rule – all the naughtiness was ironed out of you, otherwise how could you put up with such a boring life, even if you could have as many dresses as you wanted?

  Isabella stood for a moment, drinking it in, knowing this might be her last peaceful moment. She watched Alix fondly. Who would ever have imagined they would be such friends? She certainly wouldn’t have. Would she ever see Alix again after tonight? Probably not; not with the price that would be on her own head once the picture had been found missing. Her eyes filled with tears again at this thought. She rubbed them. God, she was becoming such a crybaby.

  Most of the guests who weren’t dancing were now eating, sitting at delicate gold chairs and tables placed around the outside of the room. Though not hungry, Isabella thought she’d better eat – the night ahead of her might be a long one. It was as she carried her full plate over toward Mrs Jolyon that it happened.

  “Isabella? Isabella Rockwell?” A voice boomed.

  She ducked behind a pillar, but it was too late. Everyone around her was looking at her. There was nowhere for her to hide.

  “I can’t believe it!” Lady Molesey’s face was indeed disbelieving. “It is you, isn’t it? What on earth are you doing here?”

  She loomed in front of Isabella, blocking any form of escape. Over her shoulder Isabella saw Mrs Jolyon look up with an expression of dread as she caught sight of Lady Molesey. Isabella wouldn’t be getting any help from there, clearly.

  “Hello, Lady Molesey.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Lady Molesey repeated herself, coming up very close to Isabella as if to check she weren’t an apparition. “You’ve changed,” she said accusingly, looking her up and down. At least there was nothing she could criticise about her appearance. “Why are you here? What on earth happened to you? Where did you run off to? I should have you arrested!”

  Alix had materialised at Isabella’s side, much to her relief.

  “On what grounds?”

  “Your Majesty.” Lady Molesey dropped a clumsy curtsey. “Um … er … this person is known to me, from a while ago.” Lady Molesey seemed not to want to say how.

  “She is known to me, too, and I cannot imagine why she would need to be arrested.”

  “She took some of my friend’s belongings … I believe.” Lady Molesey was now looking hesitant and less sure of herself.

  “I’m sure she didn’t.” Alix turned to Isabella. “Did you, Isabella? Or, certainly, no more than was owed to you?”

  Isabella smiled.

  “No more than had been promised, of course, Your Highness.”

  Alix turned back to Lady Molesey.

  “There, I knew there had been a mix up.”

  Lady Molesey deflated like a balloon. She opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it again.

  “I say, Isabella, what are you doing here? You’re in the most dreadful trouble –” Eloise’s quacking came closer and closer, but when she saw Alix, she stopped talking and curtsied, mumbling, “Oh, Your Majesty, I am sorry, I had no idea …” before trailing off with a red face.

 

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